Release
by Supfan
Summary: The glass hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces. It calmed her...if only for a moment or two. But he shows her there are other ways to relieve stress. She let him pretend he was her prince, but why? Dramione! (RECENTLY DECIDED TO CONTINUEREAD AUTHOR'S NOTE IN BEGINNING OF CHAPTER 7 FOR DETAILS PLEASE!) (First six chapters are rough, but I'll rewrite eventually)
1. A Little Relief and Release

**(A/N: Ok. I haven't posted anything to the site in a while. I've had a few writer's block issues [Don't you just hate those?] and now I've begun getting my ideas on paper again! Now this is a lot smuttier than I usually go for! So bear with me as I delve into some naughtier plotlines! Enjoy!)**

**[Update: 8/17/11…just went through and fixed a few errors I found! I may have missed a few, but if you point 'em out, I'll take care of them!]**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the smutty plot.**

**Warnings: NC-17! Do not read unless of age please. **

Book bag heavy with random texts, Hermione trudged down the spiraling staircase. Harry and Ron sat in the common room playing chess, both looking up at the sound of her heavy footfalls. "Care for a game Hermione?" Ron called as his rook took Harry's bishop.

"You know I don't have a mind for wizarding chess Ronald," She said back. "Besides, I'd really like to get a head start on preparing for our N.E.W.T's."

"We don't take N.E.W.T's until seventh year! Don't you think that's a little early?" Harry said looking at her with disbelief.

"They are the most important exams we will ever take! They decide the rest of our lives! I don't know about you, but I'd rather not get stuck shoveling dragon dung or working in a pub the rest of my life. So I'm going to go the library," She said, her face determined. Neither questioned her from this point on.

Out the portrait hole she climbed, book bag heavily weighing her down. Nights like this, she wished she could calm her racing mind. She hated lying to Ron and Harry, but they didn't take her serious enough at times. This was something she needed. She needed to be alone.

After a 10 minute walk through the winding passageways of Hogwarts castle, she stopped in front of a large solid oak door. It was nothing extraordinary. It looked the same as any other class or storage room in Hogwarts. Hermione was probably the only who knew different. Other students flitted by, never taking the time to notice what was right in front of them.

With three taps of her wand (one on the left of the door, one on the right and one on top) the door clicked open a few inches. She hurried in, taking care to shut the door behind her. Immediately, she tossed her book bag into the corner, not caring that its contents were now strewn across the floor. Her wand waved casually at the fireplace, the fire blazing right away. The room was a pleasant one, not small, but able to be illuminated by the fireplace. The old suede couch and armchairs cast dark shadows across the floors. Bookshelves made of mahogany lined the walls, odd sorts of bobs and trinkets (that one might find upon the desk of Albus Dumbledore) cluttered the shelves, some glowing or humming occasionally.

Hermione let out a sigh, softly closing her eyes. It had been over a week since she'd been here. It had been one whole week since she had found the time to sneak away from her books, studying, homework, and prefect duties. She planned to take full advantage of her time.

Spinning on her heels and whipping about her wand, curse after curse hit the glass and metal instruments decorating the shelves. Hermione's body moved swiftly as she worked her magic. Her deep breaths and grunts of concentration from the exertion of her silent spellwork were masked by the sounds of splintering wood and shattering glass.

She was so deep into her "therapy" she didn't notice the sound of someone opening the door. While the sound escaped her notice, the hairs on the back of her neck alerted her of someone's close presence. Her wand snapped in the intruder's direction, before her eyes could catch up. Instinct overriding common sense, her wand stopped only inches from a very surprised looking blond-haired Slytherin.

"Christ Granger! Put it down!" He hissed with his arms slightly raised and his eyes directed at the tip of Hermione's wand.

"Malfoy? What on earth are you doing in here?" She asked lowering her wand. Her face was flushed and her chest heaved, drawing in breath.

"Me? What on earth are _you_ doing here? And why are you destroying the room at that?" He asked stepping over a large pile of wood towards the panting female.

Her wand whipped in his direction again, as if daring him to come closer. "That is none of your business." She used a complicated flurry of motions with her wands and debris in the room began to restore itself. Glass bobs were becoming whole, bookshelves gathered their splinters and fragments. The room became beautiful again. Hermione turned towards the fire and sat on the couch, face in her hands. She didn't think anyone knew about this room, least of all bloody Malfoy.

She waited to for the sounds of Malfoy's exit, or some scathing remark, but neither happened. "Taking out some frustration Granger?" He asked in a genuine tone. Hermione was taken aback and turned to face him. He strolled closer and sat in the armchair next to the sofa.

"Why do you care ferret?" She shot at him, annoyed that he was still here.

He looked at her, something dark glazing over his silver eyes. Hermione felt her face flush. It was suddenly too warm in this room. She stood to crack a window. "I know what it's like to feel like you need to release your frustration. Let your emotions go. Sometimes, the pressure surrounding you is almost too much to bear. Am I right Granger?"

She looked over to him, quite surprised that he was attempting to engage her in a civil conversation. Her astonishment confused her into answering honestly. "Breaking things helps for a while," She said as the cool breeze dance across her face.

"I know an even better therapy," This time the voice was in her ear, low and husky. She turned quickly, backing into the wall, wondering how he had moved so swiftly and silently. Draco pinned her in place, each arm blocking her from moving left of right. "Care to try?"

She shook her head no violently, confused. Would this be a time to panic? Was she in danger? She didn't feel threatened, but maybe he had used some sort of confundus charm. Her brain seemed awfully muddled at the moment. "Back off Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for games."

"Sometimes we just need…release," He said placing a hand on the small of her back and pulling her a bit closer. "…a form of working out tension in our highly strung bodies."

Now his face was moving entirely too near hers. She looked away, not sure how to react or what to do. She wouldn't deny that the feeling him so close, so deliciously warm against her, was fantastic, but this was wrong on so many levels. "Malfoy!" She shouted finally, pushing against his chest. Big mistake. Her hands had landed straight onto his firm chest, and she could feel ever muscle and every outline. Draco chuckled deeply. "What do you want?" She finally asked, her knees growing weaker by the second. Resolve fading, she realized Draco was supporting much of her weight with his arm. Whatever this battle was, he was winning.

"The same thing you do. A way to vent," He picked her up slightly, pinning her against the wall. His arms wrapped around her and his lips attached themselves to hers. Thoughts raced through the young woman's mind, but none made sense. A huge part of her knew that she needed to run away now and forget that this had occurred, but another part…. A part that was growing rapidly, was reveling in the way his lips were currently moving against the most sensitive part of her neck. She let out a light moan and the Slytherin pulled away and looked at Hermione expectantly.

She understood what he wanted. It was her turn to initiate this, otherwise he would walk. It didn't take long for her to decide. The absence of warmth from her lips was too much to bear. She pulled his head towards hers again and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt her robes being untied from the front and she didn't stop him. He turned her around and pressed his chest to her back, sliding her robes off her shoulders. His mouth began to place light kisses on the crook of her neck and his hand snaked around to the front of her skirt.

Hermione still didn't stop him. Something felt too sinfully exquisite about this entire scene. Swiftly, his hand dove under her skirt, He traced a finger up her clothed slit, feeling the soaked material. She let out a light groan, her bottom half twitching at the new contact. Draco picked her up and set her on the couch, his hand still lightly rubbing her womanhood. At a teasingly slow pace, he moved aside the plain underwear and let his hand feel her dripping sex. She was nervous. No one had ever been this close to her intimately before and Draco's face was now mere inches from her throbbing core. He groaned and Hermione watched the lust take over. He attached his mouth to her swollen nub, lightly suckling at first, letting her adjust to the sensation.

"Oh gods…" She moaned, arching her back immediately. Soon his pace was increasing and he pressed one finger inside of her slick sheath.

"I want you to cum for me Granger…" He whispered before burying his face in her pussy once again. The words were what sent her over the edge. She convulsed, involuntarily screaming as she rode out her first ever orgasm. He gave her sex one last kiss, before sliding up the Hermione and sticking his tongue in her mouth. The taste of herself in his mouth was erotic. He kissed her like a lover would. She wanted more. She grabbed at the obvious bulge in the blonde's pants and he grabbed her wrist.

"What?" She said confused. Isn't this what he wanted?

"Give it a few days, and if you don't regret this, I'll shag you until you until you can't stand. But sex isn't something to take lightly," He said moving back slightly. She was once again astonished at the pureblood prat she thought she knew. Again, she reached for his pants, but this time, with more force.

"At least let me return the favor," She whispered seductively, fleetly removing his buckle. She stood and guided him to sit on the couch. At this point, she spread his legs and settled herself between them, guiding his erection out of his pants. "So the rumors are true," She commented, staring at his rather large member.

Draco was about to say something, but became distracted when Hermione stroked him softly, robbing him of breath. "Oh I'm sorry Malfoy, were you going to say something? Continue," She said, and just when he was going to speak again, she wrapped her lips around the head of his shaft. He threw his head back, a groan passing his lips.

"Minx," He hissed as she smiled. She took as much of his length in her mouth as she could, focusing very intently on doing this properly. The only experience she had was the erotic books she'd found in her parent's attic, but she easily found a rhythm and style. Soon, she found herself enjoying it as she continued licking and fondling him.

"Merlin – Granger," He was grunting, his hand weaving its way into her hair, tugging lightly. Hermione was pleased, and extremely aroused, at how well he was responding to her ministrations.

Hermione continued stroking and sucking him, her pace gradually increasing until she caught his eyes and used his own words against him, "I want you to cum for me Malfoy…" And as if she'd triggered a switch, he groaned loudly and his hot seed shot into her mouth, coating the inside of her cheeks. She swallowed instinctively, thinking that spitting it out would look rather foolish.

He began to relax and looked down at the bushy-headed brunette. They stared at each other for a moment before Draco pulled her atop of him, so she straddled his waist. Then he kissed her. This was slower. This was different than before. She pulled away. "Now what Draco?"

The use of his first name had not gone unnoticed. He kissed her again. "Owl me in a few days. Let me know how you feel then…Hermione," He finished. With a peck to her forehead, he fastened his pants together and strode out the door.

She sat in silence for a moment. Had that really just happened? She knew it was wrong, but it was too late to turn back now. She'd tasted what it felt like to be completely out of control and she wanted more. She wanted to feel that ecstasy again, the burning sensation in her loins still fresh. Pulling a piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag, she hastily scribbled down a note and grabbed her things, hastily ascending to the Owlery, eager to finish what the they had just started.

**Please read and review! No flames, but I'm always open to kind suggestions!**

**Love,**

** Neena**


	2. Sealing the Deal

**(A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed! Seriously...it made my day so much, that I wrote you another chapter ! I really doubt that I'll be taking it farther than this...though I am considering an epilogue...maybe post-war dramione action? Well, I hope I delivered for you guys on this one. Please read and review...No flames as usual! Done really late at night, so point out any horrid errors please!)**

**(Update 8/20/11: Edited some stuff up…probably still some errors but sue me…it's not like I'm being paid for this! Keep up the reviews…they feed me! HEEHEE)**

The last few days had been absolute torture. When her mind wasn't actively involved in a lecture or a book, it was focused on Malfoy…the things he'd done to her body. He'd done things she'd never even done to herself! That same night she'd sent him an owl. Her reply had come the next morning at breakfast.

_Room of Requirement…Friday, Midnight  
>~D.M.<em>

Hermione had shoved the note into her robes hastily while Harry flipped through the daily prophet and Ron opened his own letters. She smirked into her oatmeal before she realized it was only Tuesday. Her face fell…she didn't know if her body could wait that long. Her eyes flicked up to the Slytherin table. His silver orbs were already attached to her. Heat seemed to envelope her as she stared intently on the spoon she held in her hand, like it was the most fascinating object in the world. Another swell of heat throughout her body alerted her to the smirk he was now giving her. She pressed her legs together. This was going to be a long four days.

Hermione dived into her already heavily mounting school work. Any moments she was awake, she tried divert herself in a book or essay. Even when she allowed herself to try and converse with her two best friends, she found her mind wandering. She could see Draco dipping his face between her legs, tongue massaging her folds, lapping eagerly. Even though they were close to winter, Hermione could feel herself writhing in heat developing under her robes and between her thighs.

Friday hadn't come soon enough. The night of their passionate encounter, Hermione hadn't been exactly prepared. She hadn't been expecting Draco Malfoy to walk in and seduce her. If she had, she probably wouldn't have been wearing the school robes she'd been running around in all day, nor the oldest knickers she had in her drawer. This time she'd pulled out a matching bra and thong Ginny had been bold enough to buy her for her last birthday. She was self-conscious in it, but it was the only thing she had that wasn't so plain…and she wanted to impress.

She'd stood in front of the mirror staring at her form in the skimpy number. The black lacy material was beautiful against her tan skin tone, but a wicked thought came to mind that was too tempting to pass up. Drawing her wand from the nightstand, she muttered, "Multicorfors". With a wave, the black lace turned emerald green, and the stitching silver. She giggled at her own devious idea and began to mentally prepare for her meeting with Draco.

Thankfully, all of the boys were in their dorms having an "Exploding Snaps" night amongst themselves, filled with butterbeer, and probably Firewhiskey. She'd been able to walk through the portrait hole, cloak drawn tightly around her without anyone to stop her. She peered around corners, making sure hallways were empty. If she was caught, she could easily say she was patrolling as a prefect, but her anxiety was on the rise. Hermione Granger was not the type to sneak out to meet with a boy in the Room of Requirement. Then again, only a few days ago Hermione Granger would not have said she's the type who would allow Draco Malfoy's skillful hand (or his sinfully delightful tongue) in her knickers.

She finally reached the door and realized she didn't know what she was supposed to ask for. Ummm…_Draco Malfoy…that's what I want…_she thought remembering his taut form. Surprisingly the door materialized in front of her. She placed her hand on the knob and rushed out of the hall. Draco was sitting in on the floor, in front of a raging fire. There was surprisingly very little in this room. There were candles lining the walls, a perfumed smell radiating through the room. Far from the style that the room they had D.A. meetings in before, this room had curtains and hardwood flooring, with a plush black carpet under Draco.

He heard the door close and looked to her. Hermione fidgeted nervously. Now that she was here…what did she expect to happen? A repeat of the other night? Even more? "Granger…" He said quietly, beckoning her over next to him. She removed her cloak and hung it on the coat hanger that had appeared on the wall. She was wearing a simple gold colored tank top and a pair of burgundy flannel pajamas. It wasn't much, but knowing what she had on underneath, she felt her confidence grow.

Hermione sat beside him quietly, not looking him in the eyes. She was afraid of what she'd see there. The carpet was surprisingly soft, not unlike the feeling of a mattress. "You just had to have Gryffindor-colored pajamas didn't you Granger?" He sneered playfully.

She smiled at him and mustered up every ounce of confidence she had. "If they bother you so much, you should take them off." Draco whipped his head towards her as if he wasn't sure of what he'd just heard.

"You still want this?" He asked, eyes searching hers. Her breathing had already started to get more shallow. Even though she wasn't sure what "this" was, she nodded her head and leaned closer. "Good." With that he began to divulge himself of his own thin shirt. Hermione almost stopped breathing. He was absolutely divine. His marble-like, pale chest was perfectly cut. Quidditch had toned this scrawny Slytherin into a muscled specimen. "I do hate those colors on you Hermione…" He whispered against her neck, kissing the sensitive skin lightly. He leaned her down, against a pile of pillows that had miraculously appeared. He raised his wand and made a slashing motion.

A tearing noise sounded and a perfect cut split her pajamas down the middle. She gasped as he placed a hand on the material, ready to separate it and gaze on her partially naked form. At this point she didn't even care that he'd ruined her pajamas. Her skin was shivering in anticipation of what she knew his touch could do to her. "You would look much better in – " He cut off his own sentence when he saw the emerald green lingerie she was adorning. He let out a deep groan of admiration and pressed his lips to Hermione's roughly. She smiled into his kiss, happy she'd thought to change the color. His hand reached her right breast and he kneaded it through the material. He pulled the cup down, his hand making contact with the sensitive skin of her nipple. It wasn't long until he rid her of the bra completely, firmly attaching his mouth around one pert bud. He suckled her softly at first, flicking his tongue against her nipple, before biting softly. She let out a little pleasant squeal when his teeth scraped along her sensitive point…so he bit harder. The squeal turned into a high-pitched moan as he marked her breast. She saw his large hickey and grinned…their little secret.

Hermione had a pleasant tingling sensation pulsing throughout her nether regions. She looked at Draco and with a slight push, she squirmed out from underneath him and pulled down his silky pajama bottoms. His eyes were dark, the lust he was feeling pouring off of him like a tangible energy. His briefs were tented, erection straining against the material. It was becoming hard for Hermione to think. His hands were sweeping down her sides and the front of her stomach, his lips trailing soon after. A trail of fire followed the touch of his lips sucking at every part of her body.

Trailing her fingers down his cut abs, she guided them down under his underwear, grasping him firmly. He hissed at the feeling of her tiny hand stroking him. "Hermione…" He groaned, his hips thrusting forward. Quickly, he pulled her away kneeling before her. Her thin, lacy panties were already dripping with her arousal. Her scent was permeating in the room. Everything was happening so fast, but at the same time not fast enough. Draco slid a finger into her heat and she arched her back. "Draco…please…no more foreplay…" She whispered, bringing his face up to hers again.

As if he had been waiting for her queue, he slipped her underwear down her legs and pulled off his own. Hermione tensed and thought about telling Draco she'd never actually been with anyone before, but thought better of it. How bad could it hurt?

"Oh!" She screamed as he entered her swiftly. The pain pierced her and made her legs numb. Draco stopped moving immediately, obviously shocked at her declaration of pain.

"Are you…a virgin, Granger?" He looked horrified and froze, his member still deep within her.

"Not anymore," She said wincing slightly, waiting for the pain to fade.

"I wouldn't have – " He cut himself off, trailing his hand down her body. He focused his attention elsewhere. "I can't be your prince. We aren't on the same side. I know that you know." Something flashed through his eyes. Shame?

She directed his face towards hers again and wiggled her hips slightly, pressing her lips to his and prodding with her tongue. His hand drifted to her heaving chest once again, kneading the full mounds, pinching the spot he'd left his mark.

She hadn't expected him to declare love and switch to the good side. A small part of her may have hoped, but he had invested too much on his side. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she understood that he had his reasons. His family was all he had. These weren't the times to hope for love. "I believe you told me you were going to shag me until I can't stand. Or are you just talk Malfoy?" If she couldn't get love…lust would suffice.

He didn't need telling twice. He began to move in and out of her. Draco filled her so completely, it didn't take long to start feeling pleasure in place of pain. His body writhed above her, small groans escaping him as he began to pound her tiny frame. "Harder…" She moaned loving the feelings she was having. Muscles she didn't know she had, had begun to tense…something strong began to build in her. "Draco…I feel…oh Merlin…" She knew she was beginning to speak nonsense, but nothing mattered except this moment. He brought his hand between them and tweaked the sensitive nub above her entrance, smiling; obviously satisfied with sounds and movements he was eliciting from her.

"Hermione, I can't last long…" Their bodies glided, slick with sweat by the heat of the fire. "You're so tight…" He was panting now, his movements becoming more sporadic, but stronger nevertheless. It didn't matter, Hermione was already reaching the edge of her climax.

"Draco I'm…" She let out a long scream, the power of her orgasm shaking throughout her body. Right as her inner walls began to contract he connected their lips, making the moment all the more intimate. He filled her with his seed, clutching Hermione as they slowly came down from their highs. "Wow. I've been missing a lot," She breathed against him, her body deliciously sore.

Draco laughed quietly. Hermione looked up at the man who had taken her virginity, the man who was still inside her. He kissed her lightly and fell beside her, pulling her into his chest. She reveled in the feeling, worried he was going to push her off and out the door right after their passionate exchange. She kissed his jaw line, wishing that things could be different. Draco seemed to pick up on what she was thinking.

"For tonight…" He began, still trying to catch his breath. "Tonight, pretend I can be your prince. Pretend…there is no war."

Once again, steely gray eyes met chestnut brown. She smiled, a tear in her eye before she buried her face in chest. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy held each other in a post-coital embrace the Room of Requirement, both of them wondering if there was ever a chance this could be.


	3. Some Time Off

**(A/N: I decided to take this a little further than I had originally anticipated. It was going be a oneshot, but this is going to be my smutty little story for quite a bit longer I think. I'm developing a REAL plot line…and as much as I hate to disappoint…there is not smut in this chapter (though plenty of vulgar messages about sex), but believe me, you'll have some real sooooon! Like maaaaybe next chapter **hint hint** This chapter really ended up being a back story and I really had it disorganized, so hopefully it makes sense! Thanks for the reviews everyone…and keep em coming! Believe me…if I keep getting them…I'll keep writing! Oh and I get a little comma happy…so sorry! I'm working on it.)**

**[Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Camille! You may not know her but you should, because she's fantastic**** In all honesty, I began writing this story for my wonderful friend when we discovered our mutual interest in fan fiction. She's not usually a Dramione shipper, buuuuuuut I think I can convince her to come to the dark side3 ]**

**Sorry this took so long and for all my stupid author's notes…haha…Enjoy:)**

She remembered watching a single trail of her blood run across the hardwood flooring. That little trail of blood had become something for her to focus on. Her primary goal became to focus on anything but the pain…and the look on Draco's face. As soon as Bellatrix had raised her wand Draco's foot had stepped forward, but Hermione had glared fiercely. There was no use in him receiving the same punishment. Her heart wept at the look on his face. After all, a girl can't give her virginity to her incredibly attractive "enemy" and not feel _something_. Strangely, she took comfort in knowing that Draco took no pleasure in this. It almost made the pain bearable….almost.

A memo zoomed through the slot in Hermione Granger's office door and snapped her out of her reverie. She let her eyes scan the growing pile of unanswered memos and letters she already had mounted on her desk. When she recognized the handwriting as Harry's, she smiled opening the letter, fully willing to ignore the others for now.

_Dinner tonight at 6 Hermione…no exceptions this time. I flooed Kingsley. –Harry_

A smile crept onto her face at her friends actions. There was no denying that she had neglected her friends recently, but immediately following Voldemort's downfall Hermione threw herself into rebuilding wizarding London. While others began to celebrate, she began to work. When Kingsley Shacklebolt became Minister of Magic, no one was surprised; however, when he appointed Hermione Granger as his lead advisor and administrative officer, many questioned his judgment. Barely 19 years old, she soon silenced all those who had their doubts and whispers travelled about her as a likely candidate as the future Minister of Magic.

By her 21st birthday, while many of her friends were successful, none of their careers could compare to hers. She engrossed herself in her work, devoting hours upon hours towards "the cause". Often she'd fall asleep at her desk. More often than not, she transfigured her sofa into a cot when she stayed at the office too late. Because of her efforts, changes came quick and the wizarding world began to feel safe once again.

Imaginably, this left little time for her friends. Harry and Ginny had married soon after Ginny's seventh year at Hogwarts, Hermione only seeing them every few weeks when she could scrape the time. Ron was playing Quidditch for the Cannons and she honestly couldn't even remember the last time she'd seen him.

A solid knock sounded on her office door and Kingsley Shacklebolt strolled in with his usual warm greeting. "Afternoon, Ms. Granger," His deep voice spoke.

"Good afternoon Minister," She replied as he sat in one of her chairs, a bemused look on his face. "I understand you spoke with Harry today?" She lifted one eyebrow, showing her obvious amusement.

Kingsley nodded, a low chuckle sounded in his throat. "Yes, I hope you have a nice dinner with the Potters!"

"I've been putting it off way to long. Thank you Minister," She said shuffled some papers around, trying to show _some_ level of organization in her cluttered room. "There are some prisoner files I need to review before my visit to Azkaban at the end of the month, but they can be put off until after the weekend."

"Actually Hermione there seems to be a problem," He said sitting up a bit straighter.

"Problem, sir?" She asked calmly, hoping this would be a simple matter.

"Unfortunately, it seems you've reached the maximum limit for saved vacation hours. I've actually come to insist you take paid hours off immediately…minimum of 2 weeks," His grin had broadened when Hermione's jaw dropped. "The Azkaban inspection has been moved forward two more weeks to allow you ample time to prepare."

She immediately began to argue. "But Minister, I am in the middle of the deal with the Americans. I think it is prudent that I – "

"Everything will be temporarily directed either to myself or Ms. Chang in your absence. I do believe we can last a few days without you," He went on, silencing her. Abruptly, as if to prevent any more attempts at argument on Hermione's part, he stood and moved towards the door. "Have a great vacation! See you on the 17th!"

A light bulb went off in Hermione's head, "Wait sir, since when do we have a maximum limit for our vacation hours?" With a smirk, the Minister of Magic swept from the room, leaving Hermione Granger to her thoughts. There was no way Harry hadn't had a hand in this.

Since she'd begun working for the Ministry, Hermione had never had two days off in a row. Leaning back in her chair, she fought off the waves of panic she felt with so much free time. After a deep breath, she felt her anxiety drift off. _I need this…_She thought to herself.

The end of her work day came far too quickly. Every time she began to head towards her floo, she remembered another note to leave for Cho or the Minister in case a certain situation would arise. At 5:30, her assistant Cho Chang came in and ushered her into the fireplace.

"The Minister asked me to see you off. Good thing too! You are already half an hour into your vacation and you haven't left," The girl stuffed some floo powder into her boss's hand and stood, arms crossed. "Off you go!"

She couldn't help but laugh at everyone's actions. With a warm smile to Cho, she threw the powder and yelled "Potter residence!" In an instant she felt the familiar swirl and nausea that came associated with this form of travel, but soon enough she landed in the spacious fireplace in the living room of Harry and Ginny Potter.

"Hermione! Gracious woman, I've missed you!" A redhead screamed launching herself from across the sitting room. "I had Harry talk directly to Kingsley because I knew that we'd never get you over here otherwise!"

"I'm sorry Ginny, I really am!" Hermione hugged her friend back, realizing how much she'd genuinely missed her. "You'll be happy to know that because of you and your husband, I've been put on a mandatory two week vacation."

Ginny squealed with delight, pulling Hermione's hand towards the kitchen. When they entered, Harry was already sitting at the table with a tumbler of Firewhiskey in hand. "About damn time you had a few days off."

"Well, I do believe your meddling had something to do with that Mr. Potter," She said smiling, arms outstretched to give her best friend a hug.

"Being the 'Boy Who Lived' has its perks," He said shrugging before breaking out into laughter and hugging his friend back.

Right as the three settled down to have the dinner Ginny had prepared, Hermione took a long sip from her glass of wine. She looked to Ginny's glass, noticing it held only water. Hermione often teased Ginny about her wine habit, but Ginny insisted that it was therapy and she never had more than a glass. "Not having wine today Ginny? You must be pregnant!" She joked with her friend, setting the glass down. Harry and Ginny froze, looking to Hermione. When neither spoke or laughed at her joke, she stared at her petite friend. "Wait...are you pregnant Gin?"

Ginny smiled, placing a hand on her stomach. "6 and a half months and we'll have a new Potter! We were going to tell you after dinner! But you are too smart for your own good Hermione Granger," She said to her friend, obviously very excited. Hermione celebrated enough for the two of them, having a few extra glasses of wine and letting her hair down for the night. She let herself relax and talk to her friends for the first real time since the Golden Trio had gone on their search for the Horcruxes.

"Since you now seem to have such an open schedule, you shouldn't have any problem getting here Sunday around noon," Harry said to her, leaning back in his chair after finishing his second helping of cake. "Ginny is going to announce the baby's arrival then with everyone here."

"That sounds good to me! I was planning to work, but it seems that is out of the picture," She answered laughing. Hermione stood, grabbing her coat from off of the chair.

He continued, "Draco Malfoy will be attending."

Hermione stumbled causing her to curse loudly as she dropped her purse and coat. Harry crossed his arms, as if he had been waiting to gauge her reaction. She wasn't sure what response would suffice in the current situation. Just when Hermione had been thinking she'd actually have a night, free from thoughts of the Slytherin…Harry Potter himself brings the bastard up. She criticized herself constantly for thinking about him so often, but she was an emotional being; the sex had been a meaningful moment, whether or not Draco had felt the same. "Really? May I inquire as to why?"

She straightened herself up and tried to look as mildly curious as possible, given the circumstances. Harry had a peculiar look on his face as he explained, "After the trial, we continued talking. He's actually been to dinner here more often than you lately!"

If Harry noticed Hermione's strange behavior, he said nothing. She was completely taken aback by this revelation. If she had been around more, would this have still developed? Now there was no escaping an encounter, though she very much wished she hadn't so readily agreed to the party. No excuses would solve this dilemma.

Every time the conversation had lingered too long upon the subject of the youngest Malfoy during the past few years, she tensed. As she struggled to change the subject, she'd look away and will herself to let her mind wander. For two years, Hermione Granger had successfully managed to avoid running into the pale blonde, though she barely liked to admit to herself that she had gone looking for information about him as soon as the Daily Prophet had been restored to a reliable source of wizarding news once again.

With the help of the papers, Hermione was able to hear every detail about the Malfoy family, post-war. Narcissa's timely devotion to her son (shown by her assistance to Harry in the Forbidden Forest) saved her from the horrors of Azkaban, though she was confined to her home for an undetermined amount of time.

Lucius hadn't been nearly as lucky. While fewer dementors were being relied upon because of their loyalty to Voldemort during the war, many wizards now stood in their place at Azkaban. They spoke often to the newspapers about the status of the prisoners and Lucius was one "deemed to lose his sanity" or so the Daily Prophet reported, as he "spends his days in utter silence, only muttering and yelling in his sleep". She felt little pity for him, but to be honest, she rarely thought of Lucius. Her mind always managed to wander to his son.

Even if she'd actually tried, she wouldn't have been able to escape news of Draco Malfoy. Harry took an active interest in his case with the Wizengamot and testified on his behalf. Not surprisingly, being the savior of the wizarding world had given his testimony a lot of merit, so much so that any word from Harry Potter was considered a second chance. Harry Potter used his influence to help Draco Malfoy, much to the confusion of all of his friends. Ron's mouth had gone slack and he'd gone to argue, but Harry raised a hand.

"We were raised to be on the good side. He wasn't, but he won't make the same mistake twice," Harry said this with a tone of finality, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Lines and creases now adorned the skin that Hermione had once remembered as so smooth and boyish. His hands were rough and calloused. Hermione had realized that the war had aged Harry physically, but this mark of wisdom almost brought her to tears. She was more proud of him at this moment than ever before, though she wasn't sure if her partiality to Draco had something to do with that.

Draco Malfoy was cleared of all charges and released. Hermione hadn't been able to bring herself to attend the trial, though she had felt a sort of relief at hearing the results. When she'd heard, all she could do was smile and pray he used his second chance the right way.

Hermione found herself searching for him during the Battle of Hogwarts. Sounds like bombs going off had echoed down the corridors. Those were the sounds she remembered the most; Hogwarts crumbling all around her. She shot curses left and right, checking the face of every Death Eater she disarmed. Every time she thought she saw a glimpse of blonde hair, it was never him. Her frustration, her fear, and her anticipation all culminated into the moment she kissed Ron Weasley. It was a quick outlet. His kiss had been…comforting when they were on the brink of death and in the midst of war, but nothing more. There was no excitement, sparks, or lust involved.

He had been surprisingly easy to let down, though his ears had gone rather red when she said she loved him like a brother. Even though she didn't want to hurt him, she couldn't risk him waiting for her. As heartless as it may sound for Hermione Granger, she didn't want to leave the slightest glimmer of hope…she knew how much worse that could be in the long run. She had tried over and over to fall for him but it felt wrong. Truth was, her affections for him had stopped the moment Draco had kissed her. They hadn't shifted to him altogether, but they definitely were no longer directed to Ronald Weasley.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of Draco's fingertips leaving trails of fire along her skin, his hot lips attaching themselves to every part of exposed flesh he could find. Merlin, she was wet just thinking about it. After having a taste of "what could be" she knew she could never settle for anything less than pure, unbridled passion. And though she knew it wasn't likely, she craved the passion that the Slytherin prince had inspired in her, as well as the excitement her loins had been aching for since their tryst in the hidden room. Would anyone ever be able to take her to those heights again?

"I guess I'll be seeing you Sunday then." With a few more hugs and a wave, she exited out the front door determined to clear her mind with a walk in the chilly night air. "Draco Malfoy…" She whispered to herself in the dark. "I'll see you Sunday."


	4. Reignition

**(A/N: This chapter was a long time in the making and I really, really apologize for that. To be perfectly honest, I am going through some medical issues right now. These medical issues have triggered some depression and anxiety. Recently, when I began to feel better, I started writing again and I am feeling like my old self! Hopefully more of these chapters will be coming soon enough! Thank you to those who reviewed!)**

The clock chimed noon and Hermione Granger's body suddenly felt drained of all energy. Noon already? Where had the last day and a half gone? She'd managed to use her Saturday to herself, lounging about the house in her pajamas while she carried a book around. The time had gone too fast. Now she was heading to her best friend's house, knowing full well that Draco Malfoy would be there soon as well.

Mustering up what courage she could manage, she straightened her thin, summery robes and turned on the spot, landing in front of the door. After a deep breath in and out, she grasped the handle and pushed it open. She was happy to see a majority of the Weasley family already there, as well as some other friends she could recognize from Hogwarts. No sign of Draco Malfoy yet. Hermione felt herself relax slightly.

"Hello Hermione Granger," A woman's voice spoke almost immediately.

"Luna! How have you been?" She looked at her friend as she spoke, grabbing her hand with affection. Luna Lovegood had never been her closest peer, but she'd been there during the war and she'd been there after. She was a kind person, with crazy beliefs and a good heart.

"Quite well. Neville and I are planning and excursion to a mountain range in South America. He'll be researching and taking some samples of plant life back to Hogwarts. I plan to look for Cockery birds. Winter is their mating season, so we're more likely to find them in the cold! "

Hermione had just been about to open her mouth and inquire as to what a Cockery bird was when Ginny walked up, handing each girl a fruity looking drink. "Everyone wants to see you love. George and Angelina just arrived a moment before you!" For the next half hour, she was passed from person to person. The way people spoke to her, it was like she'd been out of the country for the last two years. Only now did she feel the weight of the choices she made over the past couple years. Mrs. Weasley held her until she felt she couldn't breathe. Angelina showed off the shiny new engagement ring George had just given her. Fleur was sporting a large baby bump.

_How__could__I__miss__all__this?_ She thought, close to tears. She'd neglected her friends too long. This two week vacation was her second chance. As she stared around at all her friends, she decided that work needed to take a back seat. She squeezed Ginny's hand and turned to see Harry Potter at the fireplace, greeting Draco Malfoy.

She froze, as she watched him shake hands with Harry. While it had only been a few years, Draco looked different than how she remembered. His hair was a bit longer, but not unruly by any means. Her eyes scanned for differences. The pale skin of his face hadn't changed. The marble-like complexion still made her lose her breath. His eyes were still stormy grey…what was so different?

_His__smile__…_ She realized looking at him as he spoke with Harry. Unfortunately, he had not lost any of his good looks. This presented a dilemma. Should she ignore him? Pretend like nothing happened? Strike up a civil conversation with him? Or would he make that choice obvious to her?

Those stormy eyes she had been admiring only seconds before looked in her direction. When their eyes met, Hermione felt like walking away would be her best option. Harry clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder as Hermione started towards the backyard. Seeing him had been more startling than she'd anticipated. The sun beams hit her face and she willed herself to smile, struggling to relax.

"Granger…" The low voice of a man spoke. She didn't even get 20 seconds to breathe! Why did he have to follow her out so quickly?

Her eyes snapped shut. She wanted to ignore that he'd said anything. Maybe he'd just go away. With an internal sigh, she opened her eyes. Draco Malfoy was staring at her, a mischievous expression written on his face. "Malfoy," She said politely, nodding in greeting. "Long time no see…"

Then he smirked. _Oh__Gods__…__._ The façade she had constructed was beginning to crumble. "Yes, I do believe I remember our last encounter…" He replied, dropping his voice to a whisper. "…very vividly."

A shiver ran along her spine, her body physically reacting to his words. Apparently, the sneaky Slytherin had no interest in pretending nothing had ever happened. For some reason, this angered her. She faced away from him, hiding the blush that had begun to creep. "Really? I barely remember," She spat defensively.

"Are you sure?" He asked taking a step closer. Panic waves burst in her body, all of her common sense deserting her. The part of her brain that usually told her to move had suddenly stopped working. "If I'm correct, I made you feel things that you still dream about…I certainly do."

A jolt hit the muscle memory portion of her brain and she jerked away. Was he playing at something? Trying to embarrass her? "I'm not doing this Malfoy. I stopped playing games in school. Fuck off Ferret," With that she ran back in the house, face flushed and tears ready to fall at any moment. It seems Ginny had just announced to the room her happy news, because she was greeted by a cheering crowd. Ginny was being passed around like a toy as Harry shook hands with everyone. Malfoy got under her skin once again. Part of her had hoped he would have been amicable during their meeting, but he was the same sarcastic prat.

Ginny saw her and she gave a feeble smile, attempting to be happy for her at this moment. Today wasn't about Hermione. It was about Ginny, Harry and the baby that they would be bringing into this world. She gave a wave, trying to reassure her, now concerned looking, friend. Ginny didn't buy it. She cut through the crowd, waving people off left and right, steering Hermione directly into the spare bedroom. "Hermione? Why do you look so distraught?"

Hermione had never told anyone about her experience with Draco Malfoy, not sure what sort of occasion warranted that conversation, even with her best friend. How could she explain her mindset at the time? Even she had difficulties putting her memories in order. What should she say? He had his wicked way with her and she loved every second of it? That, like he'd said, she thought about it constantly? She needed to say something. "I slept with Malfoy at Hogwarts…in the Room of Requirement." Well, that had been easier to say than she'd expected. When Ginny's jaw dropped, she rushed to explain how everything had happened.

"Why do you think you did it?" She asked, hand over her heart as Hermione told her the passionate story.

"We were both frustrated. Neither of us wanted to be involved in the war, but we did what we had to. I think…I think we just needed to feel…something," She said extremely dissatisfied with her explanation. Words just couldn't describe her emotions at this point. "Malfoy gave me something else to think about when so much horror kept coming at us. It was almost disgustingly poetic."

"You sap. I can't believe you kept this from everyone. Honestly Hermione, every girl has imagined what a romp in the sack with Draco Malfoy would be like, but you actually did it! What a first time!" Ginny looked more excited after the shock seemed to wear off. "He's honestly been one of the kindest house guests we've had. It was a bit awkward at first, mind you. But after warming up to him, he's a charmer alright."

"I felt like he was teasing me when we talked. The whole time he was talking I was waiting for him to spit out the word 'mudblood'."

"Believe me Hermione, that word isn't part of his vocabulary anymore," Ginny looked over the grief-stricken girl and continued. "Look, go home and relax. I'll explain to Harry later and – "

"No Gin!" She burst. "Please don't tell Harry. I know he's all chummy with Draco now, but he wasn't at the time and I just want to keep this between us for now okay?"

The pleading worked, because Ginny nodded and stood. "I'll tell him you're not feeling well and I hurried you off. Pop by tomorrow and we'll talk more."

"Thank you Ginny Potter," She held her friend's hands. "Ginny, I'm sorry I haven't been around so much lately, but I'm going to fix that."

"You had your ways of coping. We had ours," She laughed patting her stomach. "And since when did Malfoy become Draco?"

He'd always been Draco in her head, but she'd never slipped before. Hermione didn't say anything, choosing instead to motion towards the door for their exit. They managed to rush Hermione out of the house and past everyone before a scene could be caused. Draco was nowhere in sight, to her relief. No need to continue their conversation. She believed enough had been said.

**(A/N: Quick POV switch. I know some don't like it, but to be honest…I don't care and I think I may do it occasionally for my own amusement:-) Everyone loves a little dip in our sexy Slytherin's mind anyways don't we?3)**

The movement of his feet back and forth across the rug of Harry's study was going to wear a hole, but at this point he didn't care. He'd buy Potter a new bloody rug.

"How the hell did you upset her?" Harry asked indignantly. "The plan only works if you _woo_ her!"

"I brought up our, Er – history," He answered stopping for a moment to rub his neck. Finally, he sat with his eyes directed at the floor. He'd meant to go outside, have a pleasant conversation and invite her out to dinner casually. Hell, he'd even rehearsed the conversation in his head _and_ with Potter! Malfoy's didn't rehearse anything, let alone ask _anyone_ for help; desperate times and all that. When he'd seen her, he couldn't help admiring her form. She looked stunning and professional, but her smile had caught his eye.

Draco Malfoy had dreamt of Hermione Granger since the end of the war, though he had admitted this fact to no one, but his unlikely new friend, Harry Potter. Draco had been honest and spilled the secret, to Harry's obvious discomfort. There had been skepticism. There had been questioning, but Harry always managed to take to Draco's persuasion. So the planning began. It was time for a new start and he wanted to see if the fire she'd ignited in him during their few stolen moments, could be re-lit. Sure, the sex was great but he'd missed their arguing. Their relationship had been unlike any other and he craved the debating and the repartee.

"And you thought that was a good idea because…" Harry paused, smacking his forehead.

"I had to hear her insult me. 6th year, I felt like an Inferi going through the motions, but when I argued with Hermione…those were the only moments I felt alive. The words were out before I'd even thought about it," He shook his head. "Now what the hell do we do? I missed my bloody chance."

"She has two weeks off, Ginny told me after she left that she'll be here tomorrow," He answered. "Care for a game of Quidditch in the backyard in the morning?"

Draco grinned at Harry's devious behavior. "I guess I'll see you in the morning yea? I'm going to grab a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Up for it?"

He shook his head. "Ginny's been randy all day. Can't leave her in that state, can I?" Draco shuddered at the mental image. The clock in the study began to chime. "See you tomorrow Malfoy." With a _pop_, he was gone.

** (Hermione's POV)**

No book satisfied her. The news was more uneventful than usual and the radio was playing old tunes. By 7pm, she was getting stir crazy. She'd already written letters to friends she'd been meaning to write to for some time and made plans for her week. She made herself a tasty salad dinner and sat around, beginning to feel boredom creep in. The Leaky Cauldron was always open. A drink away from home in a slow bar sounded better than sitting around keeping herself busy to avoid over-thinking.

As she had expected, the Leaky Cauldron was incredibly barren. A few patrons sat at the far end of the bar or alone at a table in the back. This was exactly what she had needed. She strolled up to the bar, removing her coat and greeting Tom. "What'll it be Ms. Granger?"

"Actually, I think I'll take a Firewhisky today Tom," She answered politely, causing his thin eyebrows to rise dramatically. Tom knew that this was not normal for the witch. Her bar drinks were usually limited to Butterbeer and Mead, but today had been a long day and it called for a tall glass (or two) of Firewhisky. He poured her a healthy amount and left her alone. When the liquid hit her lips, the burn nearly made her cough. She forced down a large swallow, feeling it charge down her throat. Her second drink didn't hurt nearly as much. The rest of the glass went down pretty smoothly. Tom was there in flash to refill her cup with a smile.

"Never pegged you as a drinker Hermione," a man to her right was saying.

For the second time that day, she shut her eyes, willing herself to already be drunk. Maybe the Firewhisky had already reached her head. She could be imagining Draco's voice right now. She peeked her right eye open and saw blonde hair. _Nope,__I__'__m__stuck__in__the__nightmare__that__is__reality._His use of her first name had not missed her notice. Instead, she ignored it, chalking it up to more of his games.

"Can I help you Malfoy? No offense, but I'm not in the mood for your banter right now," She took another hearty swig of her drink.

"I'd like to apologize. Old habits and all that," He said sitting beside her. "You do get fired up rather quickly Granger." She looked to at his face and he was smiling to himself, turning to order himself a drink.

"If I accept your apology will you leave?" She asked hopeful. He shook his head, sipping a glass of red currant rum.

"It's not like I was stalking you. After I left Potter's, I needed a stiff drink. So, you see, I was already coming here. Running into you was just a happy coincidence," He spoke sincerely, confusing Hermione.

She made the mistake of looking at him to get a better judge of his tone. There was that damn smile again, but this one was different. Almost…sweet? She'd caused this expression on his face. This expression was testing her resolve. Fight or flight was kicking in. Part of her wanted to begin a verbal spar and run out of the pub before spending another moment with him. A bigger part of her wanted to know what this was about.

They sat in silence for a half hour. Neither spoke as they consumed more drinks. Hermione had stopped counting how many when she noticed Draco stealing glances at her often, often opening his mouth like he was going to speak. She began to get frustrated when he didn't. Suddenly, her last drink hit her. It was far too hot in the room and she began to fan her robes, hiking them up her legs to let her skin feel fresh air. Draco had definitely noticed this. His eyes stared at her bare calf, eagerly appraising.

"Those drinks have gone to my head Granger. Care to take a walk with me? I don't trust myself alone," He laughed looking quite tipsy. She nodded, needing the fresh air.

"Sure, but to be honest, I don't trust myself with you," She mumbled at a level she believed to be quiet enough for him not to catch. Unfortunately, alcohol lowers judgment and she'd said this loudly enough for him to hear. She realized this quite too late. They stood, paying their respective tabs and draping their coats over their arms.

The cool, night air was refreshing against her skin. She felt relief from the heat of the fireplace in the pub. They walked, Hermione's shoes making a clicking noise against the cobblestone path. "Why?"

"Why, what?" She asked, too drunk to decipher is vague questions.

"Why don't you trust yourself around me?" He was looking at his feet. Hermione wondered whether it was because he didn't want to look at her, or because he needed to concentrate on his footing to stay standing. Each answer she came up with sounded more ridiculous than the first.

Rather than answer, she stopped at a bench in the park they had walked into. A single street lamp illuminated the spot. Hermione sat and Draco took her lead, sitting beside her. His leg brushed hers and she inched away. First contact had been made.

The spot on her leg that had been touched was tingling. The heat travelled up her leg and she shivered, pulling her coat around her to mask her reaction. "Cold Granger? You know I could help with that?" He made a move to remove his jacket, a smirk on his face. Before Hermione could reply, he continued. "I mean my coat."

Then Hermione paused before letting herself laugh. She let herself laugh wholeheartedly for the first time since she could remember. It wasn't even particularly amusing, there was more to this laugh than that. Draco laughed at first and then seemed to stare at her for a while. Even after her laughter died down, he continued to look at her. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of what to do or say next. She turned to face him, determined to start some sort of casual conversation.

Before she could think of a topic, his lips attached themselves firmly to hers. He moved closer to her, his heat quickly warming her body. She made several attempts to push him away, but he constantly pulled her back, silencing her protests by melding his lips to hers. As she started to settle down, he nipped at her jaw line, leaving trails of heat on her skin. Her breaths were coming out in pants, visible in the cold weather.

His hands were moving again and this time, she didn't have the slightest inclination to make an attempt at stopping him. His hand dove into her robes, separating them just enough to see her form. In a very skilled movement, he picked her up and carried her behind a nearby alley, away from any prying eyes that may have been in the street.

Their lips moved together, both passion and angst emanating from their contact. Hermione couldn't have stopped this if she'd wanted to. His tongue parted her lips as he dominated her wholly, his hands creeping up to lift the hem of her dress. She moaned as the skin of his hands began to pet and caress her inner thighs. It was obvious where they were heading and she wanted to hurry this up before regret seeped in. Right as his fingers were about to dip into her nether lips, she stopped him. "No foreplay Malfoy," She ordered pulling his wand from his robes and waving it lazily.

He looked like he was going to argue, until he realized she'd just vanished her knickers and opened his pants. Instinctively, she coiled her legs around him. Her entrance was mere inches from his member and without a moment's hesitation, he buried himself within her. The brick wall against her back supporting her was scraping her through her coat, but she barely registered the feeling. Now that he was inside her, she couldn't have cared if the Minister of Magic himself had walked around the corner. He wasn't going easy on her, pounding without restraint.

The tightness of her pussy clamped onto Draco for dear life as he began to pump in and out of her. As he withdrew, he locked eyes with her and then slammed within her once more. This is what would drive Hermione over the edge. She knew as he assaulted her body in the most pleasurable way imaginable, that his stare during their encounter would haunt her dreams long after they parted. No one had ever been as close to her as Draco had. Yes, they'd technically been enemies and childhood rivals, but he'd taken her maidenhood. She'd never let herself become intimate since. Draco Malfoy had obviously made an impression.

His hands gripped her waist roughly and he began to increase his pace, pulling her away and bending her over a conveniently located barrel. Hermione gasped in surprise. The barrel was cold against her chest, but when Draco slammed his cock back into her…she forgot about how uncomfortable she was. This new position had her seeing stars and the momentum he was gaining was slowly carrying them both into ecstasy.

While she may have had limited sexual encounters, Hermione knew there was an obvious difference between this time and the last. It may have been a few years of newly acquired skill, or maybe the fact that their antics were taking place in an alley behind an old bookshop, but this experience was the most exhilarating moment of the young Hermione Granger's life.

She felt the tightening in her core and couldn't hold her noises back any longer. As her orgasm spilled over her like a dam bursting at the seams, she let out a long moan that probably echoed throughout the street nearby. This didn't faze her in the slightest. Draco followed soon after, coaxing Hermione through her orgasm with his last few pumps. Her body was twitching and she was experiencing spasms, alerting her to muscles she didn't know she had. Both collapsed, panting in the aftermath of their antics. Draco flipped her around, burying Hermione's face into his shoulder.

Hermione was fully aware of their current situation. She didn't want to look into his eyes. Never mind the fact that they were still, quite literally, attached at the waist. Seeing him _and_ feeling him in their post-coital haze would make the situation all the more real. Draco's hands were still moving across her body leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. This was too much for her right now. Just as her breathing had started to even out, she could feel herself begin to take shallow panicked pants. She pressed her hand against his chest, looking away as she pushed him from her. As his length slipped out of her, she let her disorientation mask the emptiness she was feeling. "What did we do?" She whispered, shaking her head. "You should go… I- I need to go."

He caught her wrists lightly as they fell upon his chest, as if trying to catch her attention. "Granger, stop." She pulled away easily and began buttoning her coat. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and repeated his plea more forcefully, "Granger, stop."

As she shrugged Draco off, she pulled out her wand. "No Malfoy, I will not stop." Draco backed away with wide eyes. Her ferocity was intimidating. "I can't do this to myself again. I shouldn't have made the same mistake twice," She spat at him. Just as she was apparating away, Hermione thought she saw a look of hurt cross the blonde's features, but she must have just been tipsy.

She collapsed into a pile on the floor of her living room, her knees having given out at her precise moment of apparation. As she lie on the floor, she peeled her coat off and cast it aside. She could still feel the sticky evidence of their passionate affair coating the inside of her thighs. As much as she wanted to shower, her legs didn't seem to have any feeling left in them; whether it was from pleasure or exhaustion, she wasn't sure.

Hermione didn't try to fool herself into thinking she hadn't wanted the sex. There was no doubting she had wanted every dirty second of it, but that was the problem. She knew what she had done was completely wrong and yet she had let it happen. She was just a back-alley fuck and she was okay with it, though she quite honestly wanted something more. That is what was killing her.

As soon as she had regained a substantial amount of feeling in her legs, she took a scalding hot shower in hopes that his delicious scent would leave her skin. It may have just been her imagination, but even after cleaning herself and changing into sleeping clothes, Draco Malfoy's odor was just as present. It was a tantalizing reminder of their feverish antics. The copious amounts of alcohol she'd drank dulled her senses. She knew she'd feel worse in the morning, but right now she took advantage of her exhaustion and settled into bed, only wanting sleep. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was gone.

**(A/N: Plenty of people signed up for Story Alert's, but not nearly as many reviews! I thrive of reviews. If I get enough, I write faster! Haha 3 )**


	5. Confrontation

**(A/N: Ok…so I totally did something different in this chapter and I've been playing with changing POVs…I'm imagining this scenario in my head as a movie with a more omniscient point of view, but I prefer third-person writing….sooooooo I'm mixing it up as I please. In the process I am trying not to be tooooo redundant, just glimpsing into their mind to see their opinion or thoughts in the matter. Since I started the story third person, the format will remain so. Please tell me if it's just a little too much [kindly haha]. I believe this will be the only chapter in which I do this so very frequently. Hermione and Draco will switch back and forth occasionally as I see fit, but we will hop over into Ginny's head for just a moment or two during this chapter, maybe others... Read, review, and enjoy 3 )**

Hermione massaged her temples with her fingertips, letting the throbbing pain seek the karmic justice she knew she deserved. She hadn't even bothered changing out of her favorite Gryffindor-themed pajamas before flooing straight to Ginny's. "I don't understand why you won't just take some potion and get past the hang over!" The redhead was complaining, dangling the pink bottle over Hermione's throbbing head.

"Ginny, this is punishment for my stupidity! I feel like I deserve to suffer," She put her face in her hands, flashes of the night before invading her conscious. She still had on her most comfortable pajamas, not having wanted to take the time to get dressed before she headed to see her friend.

Ginny Potter had been a fantastic listener to Hermione's newest story. She'd frozen halfway through the flashback and left out most of the more intimate details. Hermione had blushed enough as it was, barely able to look at the fiery woman in front of her. She glanced nervously over her shoulder, waiting for Harry to walk in at any moment and hear their conversation. Her thoughts about Draco were maddening. She shuddered when she recalled how forcefully he'd taken her and how anyone could have walked by them. The memories were almost unbearable.

"No one deserves a hangover, not even sluts," She said winking before shrugging her shoulders. "Shouldn't you consider this a good thing Hermione? I mean, maybe you and him – "

"No Gin! It's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I am Hermione Granger. How can we have anything but contempt for each other? How can I get over every biting word or every blatant insult he ever spat at me?" Her eyes fell to the napkin in front of her untouched tea. She busied her hands with the torn corner. "This was just sex. Emotions were not involved. We were drinking and I…well…wanted it."

"You mean you wanted it _again_. He really that good?" Ginny teased, scooting closer. "Look, I think you just need to speak with each other. In the war, things were different. We were all enemies, but now you even have a mutual social circle. Believe it or not, he's a good guy. Maybe you two could become friends?"

Finally reaching for the remedy, Hermione threw it back swallowing the contents in one attempt. "I think we blew any chance we had at friendship by sleeping together…twice," She responded putting her fingers in the air to emphasize her odd situation. "I'll try talking to him I suppose, especially since I'm going to have to see him more often." She crossed her arms, feeling the potion give her sweet relief.

_**(Draco's POV)**_

Draco appeared with a crack down the street from the home of the Potter's. Harry had said to meet him in the backyard, but Draco wasn't one to just appear at his friend's homes. _Friend…._he thought with a smirk. It was almost funny how a war could change so many things. If you had asked him a few years ago if he'd ever play a friendly game of Quidditch in Potter's backyard, he probably would have hexed you for suggesting the ridiculous idea. Now, Harry was the only one who really understood the position he'd been placed in. This man understood why he'd done what he'd done. He'd forgiven him. That was when Draco stepped forward and asked for help, fully willing to admit that Harry was a better man than himself.

Harry was already on his broom, doing low circles around the field of his yard. He waved at Harry who smiled and came to a stop. Draco hadn't told anyone about his encounter at the bar last night. "I saw Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron. We…Er- talked," He led, wanting Harry off his broom for the actual news. Harry gave an obvious look of surprise and then got off his Firebolt.

"Talked? How did it go?" He asked, motioning Draco to the broom shed to grab the balls.

"Erm- I suppose it went well," He responded, wondering how best to continue. Settling for his normal attitude, he spoke bluntly. "Actually, we shagged like gnomes in spring. It was right behind an alleyway in London."

"What? Hermione and you? Again?" Harry looked dumbfounded.

Draco nodded. "Then she ran off, apparated out of my sight immediately. I tried to stop her, to talk to her and she just left. She's infuriating, that woman."

"Did you actually do _any_ talking with her? Or just the…sex," Harry swallowed roughly, trying not to imagine his best friend and new confidante in the throes of passion.

"When she left…she told me she shouldn't have made the same mistake twice," Draco said, sitting in a chair on the porch. He sat for a moment silently, then decided to continue, "It hurt." Draco hadn't even been that honest with himself yet.

Harry sat in the chair opposite him, eyeballing him warily. Draco could see Harry's brotherly affection for Hermione overtaking his newfound friendship with him. "The papers have shown you with a faire share of available witches over the past two years. Will Hermione just be another picture in the paper Draco? Is she just a conquest?"

Now Draco was becoming annoyed, though he did his best to not let it show. The two of them had had this conversation multiple times, all whenever Potter worried too much over Hermione's feelings being hurt. He tried not to complain (this man did save him from a good deal of time in Azkaban), but he was growing impatient. "None of them….were her. I knew it the whole time and I tried to pretend that they mattered. I'm done keeping up with the charade and just wondering. I need to know, regardless of the consequences."

Harry rolled back his shoulders, obviously letting himself be reassured. "She's inside. Ginny was trying to get her to take a hangover remedy with her tea when I came out back." Harry paused, lifting an empty juice pitcher. "Care for some lemonade?"

In a few strides, Harry was inside the backdoor of his home beckoning Draco onward. The door slammed shut behind Harry.

_**(Hermione's POV)**_

The sound of the door slamming caught Ginny's attention. "That'll be Harry, he can't shut a door quietly to save his life." Much to everyone's surprise; however, it was not Harry who walked in first, but Draco Malfoy. Hermione whimpered. _Why couldn't she just escape him for little while?_ She sent Ginny a look of pleading but her friend rushed and hugged both of the men. "I was thinking about making some lunch and some more lemonade…help me Harry?"

Harry looked genuinely confused as Ginny began trying to push him out of the room. Hermione was about to stand and beg for Ginny to stay, but before she knew it; she was alone with the Slytherin Prince himself. Hermione shuffled her feet, unsure of what to do next. She looked over at Draco, who appeared equally uncomfortable. At once she began plotting revenge for Ginny. Hermione did extremely well under pressure, but these circumstances were different. There'd never been sexual tension in her life before and she didn't know how to deal with it. Even now, standing in a close proximity to him, her body was reacting, flushing at his mere presence.

"I wasn't trying to – " Draco began cutting himself off. "Last night, I wasn't attempting – " Again he stopped mid-sentence. "I want you to know that those weren't my intentions in going there. I wasn't stalking."

She nodded, not sure she trusted herself enough to speak at this point. Shuffling her feet, she glanced down; praying Harry would run back in here at any moment and end this awkward confrontation. Sex was not a subject she would have taken lightly (had she had a normally active sex-life). This wasn't something she was prepared to deal with. Of all the ideas to cross her mind, an owl, or a message through Harry maybe, she hadn't expected to meet him quite so suddenly.

It felt like hours passed. Hermione could hear the distant chiming of the clock in the entrance hall, signaling 11 a.m. She counted her breathes, not looking in Draco's direction once. She stared down before Draco's black shoes appeared in front of hers. She held her breath, not daring to look up. "We need to talk Hermione. Not now, not here. Tomorrow?" She considered his words, knowing that this is exactly what Ginny had told her to do and knowing it was exactly what needed to happen.

"Monsieur Maurice's coffee shop, 9 a.m." She said quietly, picking a location she was quite familiar with. Slowly, she felt Draco's finger tilt her chin up and before she realized it was happening, he'd pressed her lips against hers. This was not the same as it had been last night. This was something entirely new and possessing. His lips moved softly, tongue tracing her mouth ever so slightly. He cupped her face with his hand, pulling her close. Then, a loud bang from the kitchen sounded and Hermione realized what she was doing. "I should go help Ginny with the food."

Hermione walked into the hallway, out of sight. Her chest was heaving as she leaned against a wall for support. She touched her lips carefully, dragging her fingertips along them where his taste still remained. With a sigh, she entered the kitchen. Ginny was standing, a pan clutched to her chest. A plate of neatly stacked sandwiches and a ready-made batch of lemonade sat upon the counter. "You two work fast," Hermione said leaning against the door jam.

The couple gave a pair of awkward smiles and Hermione shifted her feet, now uncomfortably aware that they were talking about her. She shot Ginny a glare, but immediately both her and Harry perked up and acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. "The boys are going to head out and play some Quidditch. Let's get some fresh air, care to help me Hermione?" With a nod, Hermione lifted the platter and followed her friend to the backyard.

_**(Harry's POV)**_

Harry was dragged, quite unwillingly, from the living room. While his original intentions had been to force Draco and Hermione into the same situation that they were currently in, he was confused as to why Ginny had beaten him to it. "What the hell is going on?" He asked as she guided him through the swinging door down the hallway.

"Look, they need to talk alright? I can't tell you why, but they need to have a conversation!" She said impatiently, pulling both lemonade and sandwiches from the fridge. Obviously the help hadn't been necessary.

"I know they need to talk, but why do _you_ think they need to talk?" Harry asked, an eyebrow raising apprehensively. He wondered how much his clever wife knew. It wouldn't have surprised him if Hermione had told her by now, but he didn't want to lose anyone's trust by revealing any secrets. Ginny was now eyeballing Harry, leaning against the counter with her other hand on her hip. Harry tried not to laugh as he realized this was a stance very similar to her mother's. He straightened his grin and hoped she'd speak first.

"Hermione and Draco had an – encounter – during their time at Hogwarts," She said carefully.

"Did Hermione tell you about the Room of Requirement?" He asked, using a tidbit of information Draco had supplied.

"Yes!" Ginny said clutching her chest, looking relieved that they could share this secret together. "Hermione has been a wreck since seeing him again at our announcement party. I just want them to talk this out. They'll have to be dealing with each other, one way or another."

"I agree, but Ginny there's more to it than that," Harry said shaking his head. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, where his glasses were irritating him. "I wish I could explain it properly. You have to…see him, when he talks about her. He…changes…I don't know."

Ginny was silent. Harry wondered what was going through her head. "Then I believe their meeting is well overdue. Hermione doesn't lose her nerve very easily Harry. You've seen her since the war…almost cold," Ginny spoke slowly. "When Malfoy enters the room, it's like damage of the war melts off of her. I see the Hermione from Hogwarts." The pan she had been holding slipped out of her hand during her reverie, falling to the floor with a loud clang. She picked it up quickly, eyes shooting to the swinging-door. "I don't think it's wise for either of them to find out we both know."

"That's probably for the best," Harry said. Footsteps alerted them to Hermione's presence right as she pushed through the door. She eyed them, obviously wary. Harry felt the tension in the room grow. As Hermione and Ginny rushed through the door, Harry wondered what exactly the Potter's were getting themselves into.

_**(Draco's POV)**_

As Draco entered the room, he caught a glimpse of Hermione's disheveled, yet startlingly glowing-appearance. His breath caught when he realized she was wearing a pair of form-fitting pajamas that brought him flash-backs. He'd torn a pair of pajamas exactly like the ones she was currently wearing. Like it was yesterday, he could remember peeling back the offending colors to find emerald green negligee, just waiting for him to rip off. His fingers had brushed her skin so softly at first, as if her creamy skin would melt at his touch. As soon as he thought about he, he fought the images coming to mind, blood beginning to rush to his groin. Hermione looked tired and was wearing no makeup. Her bushy, chestnut mane was brushed, but nearly unruly. She wasn't adorning the classy, sophisticated robes she usually presented to the public. Draco realized she had never been more attractive.

Her pure, almost wild-looking, features were the sexiest he'd ever seen, even with the Gryffindor colors being represented. He'd started the conversation in the most blundering manner, not sure how exactly he should proceed, but when his lips touched hers, he was sure he could feel his intensity. With every movement of his lips, he tried to pour his emotions. He tried to show her what he was feeling and everything he was planning to tell her in time. When they broke apart, the void came back. It was like she was taking a small part of him with her as she walked out the door.

By the time he walked outside, Ginny and Hermione were sitting on the patio swing. Draco went straight to the broomshed, summoning his gear as he went. He met Harry and began to suit up. They soared into the air, beginning with some tosses of the quaffle to loosen up. With a burst of speed, they flew high enough to talk privately.

While Draco knew Harry wasn't eager to hear his story about last night's run-in with Hermione, he'd pressed on anyway, attempting to spare any details that would make Potter squirm (well, some of them. He was a Slytherin after all). He explained how they had only sat for drinks, then attempted a walk. "Harry!" A voice called from down below. Ginny was waving her hand in the air. "We are going to make a run to Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping!" Harry flew down swiftly, placing a swift kick on his pregnant wife's cheek before circling back upwards. Hermione was looking at Draco again.

Part of him was wishing he could do the same, even though such a show of affection was against everything he stood for; everything he _used_ to stand for. Mostly, he wanted the simplicity of the relationship. What he and Hermione had currently was anything but simple. "So how did your talk in my sitting room go?"

"I thought it went well, but that's no thanks to you. Ginger takes the prize for that accomplishment," Draco shrugged before Harry could retort at the nickname. "So does she know?"

Harry paused for a second. "Like we said, Hermione may have told her something by now, but if she knows anything she didn't give it up. I think she's trying to set you two up on her own accord."

"That may help. Hermione and I are meeting tomorrow morning at Monsieur Maurice's….to talk. I don't know what I'm even supposed to say Potter," Draco took a second, calculating his words to express his full meaning. "Harry…I can't fuck this up again." He was pleading now, using his friend's first name to emphasize his desperation. "I need this to work. I need her to know."  
><strong>(Ok, I'm not exactly thrilled with how this chapter turned out, but I promised SOMETHING. I may go back and fix this one later as I see fit, but for now R&amp;R please!)<strong>


	6. Untested Waters

**(A/N: Alrighty, so I started this chapter in the WRONG place, but just pretend it was in the end of the last chapter. I really wanted the conversation with Ginny and Hermione in there, but (for some stupid reason) I didn't put it in the last bunch, even though it was written. Again, sorry it took so long! Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing! Everything is in Hermione's POV, no smut, but there will definitely be some soon. Gotta get that fix3 )**

Ginny poured Hermione a cold glass of lemonade and they stared at the boys as they strolled towards the broom shed. The ginger haired woman looked towards her husband thoughtfully, as he ruffled his hair and hopped on his broom. He rose high in the air quickly, appearing as a small dot in the sky before swooping down swiftly, hovering at a height well above the house. The sheen of Draco's platinum locks in the autumn sunlight caught Hermione's attention, though she was sure she was using any excuse to steal a glance at him. He was leaning on his broom while he adjusted the glove of his left hand. The muscles of his forearm stretched as he flexed his fingers. She blushed and cleared her throat, hoping to start a conversation with Ginny that didn't involve the now-flying Slytherin.

"Ginny, I – "

"Let me stop you right there. Unless you are going to tell me exactly what went on while Harry and I were waiting patiently in the kitchen, I don't want to hear it," She said fiercely, obviously set on obtaining the information. Hermione couldn't help but smile at her very Weasley attitude.

"We…talked," She said simply, her eyes rolling in Draco's direction. Ginny looked at her expectantly, leaning forward as if on the edge of her seat, waiting for her to continue. "We decided to talk further tomorrow morning at Maurice's."

"Like a date?"

"No. I mean, maybe. No, definitely not," Hermione argued with herself verbally. "Ginny, he kissed me."

Ginny smiled brightly, leaning back in her chair. A look of mischief crossed with excitement crossed her face. "So, now I have to ask. How was he in the sack?" She looked like she'd been waiting to ask this since Hermione had spilled her secret. "I mean I know your first time must have been awful, but last night must have been great right?"

Hermione had been blushing already, so she was now sure she had turned purple. The fall air was slightly chilled and she took a few deep breaths. This was her best friend. She should be able to easily and freely discuss her new-found sex life with her. She'd never been able to share details before, so she bent her head to talk quietly, paranoid Harry or Draco would hear. "To be honest, the first time I never thought I could feel so complete. I felt…whole. Last night," She said letting her mind run over the smaller details. "…it was hazy, but so intense. Every muscle in my body wanted it. Ginny, he had me up against a wall behind a bookshop in London and I have never felt more alive than I did then."

It was Ginny's turn to blush a bit. She looked utterly surprised by her friend's explanation. "Sounds like you lost your virginity in a haze of bliss. And a bookshop? Hermione Jean Granger!" Ginny clutched her heart dramatically. "No offense Hermione, but I just didn't think you – "

" – were the type to do something like that, I know!" Hermione finished quickly. "That is what's driving me mad Gin. There were plenty of other options over the past two years. Any ministry function I've attended has brought me a plethora of suitors who've never failed to express their interest. I have managed to turn down every single one of them, except Malfoy. Of all the people I could have allowed to come close, I let in Malfoy. I let Malfoy fuck me against a wall in public." Verbally announcing this realization made her feel a bit dirty.

"It's Romeo and Juliet, isn't it? It used to be wrong. It's not anymore Hermione. Plus, all those ministry blokes were strangers and perverts weren't they? Draco and you have history…not exactly pleasant history, but years of memories and tension. Tension that obviously had to be released somehow!"

Hermione pondered her friend's statement as both of their eyes travelled to the men in the sky. They watched the boys warm up, tossing the quaffle back and forth between them…obviously having a conversation that was more entertaining than Quidditch. "I don't think I can sit here and watch him much longer. I'm going to head off to Diagon Alley and pick up some books I've ordered. It's hard enough to think about tomorrow morning without him looking so perfect on that damn broom." Hermione was willfully ignoring that Draco's presence in her life had swiftly brought a new set of words into her vocabulary. _Fuck _and_ damn_ had rarely passed her lips in daily conversation, but Draco definitely brought out a new side to her. She tried not to let that worry her.

"Let me come along. I need to pick out some maternity robes, as well as an outfit for you to wear to your brunch in the morning," Ginny smiled standing quickly. Hermione stood back as Ginny explained to her husband that they were going shopping. She tried her hardest to avoid looking at him. She failed and began to walk away, avoiding the temptation altogether.

Ginny had ultimately hijacked Hermione's coin bag and purchased a new set of chocolate-colored robes that hugged her form snugly, accentuating the bust, a slit in the material showing leg as she walked. Hermione had been slightly uncomfortable but Ginny had insisted on them, and she hadn't the energy to argue.

The next morning, Hermione stood in front of her sink, hands trembling with anticipation of the rendezvous she had ahead of her. The last two years had been so cut and dry. Everything had been planned. There was always a right and wrong path, of which she could easily navigate through. Now, she felt like she had been tossed in the middle of a maze with no map. She knew this meeting was necessary, but after that?

She checked her appearance once again, applying another thin layer of gloss to her plump lips. While the robes complimented her form, she adjusted them often, worried she couldn't pull them off. With a wave of her wand, Hermione summoned a hair pin, pulling back a loose curl. After a sigh, she disappeared from her bathroom, landing directly across from her favorite coffee shop. Opening only a few short months after the fall of Voldemort, when the wizarding world was quickly regaining their ground, Monsieur Maurice's had become the chic new hotspot very rapidly. She'd suggested this as their meeting point out of sheer comfort factor. When she was stressed, this place often brought her out of the slump. In the back of room, a large table sat secluded near a small hearth. This was her spot. Many times she brought her work here, spreading papers and files across the table, emptying cup after cup of coffee, only to have it refilled by Maurice himself. Maurice was a Frenchmen, who said that when he was a young man, he had grown tired of "the snobs of Paris". After, decided to take residence in London. While he'd lived in London for years, the empty shops of Diagon Alley had prompted him to start his own business when the real estate became so readily available.

As she pushed the door open, bells jingled overhead and she made a beeline for _her_ table. Purposely, she'd arrived slightly earlier than planned so she could have the spot without any complications. If this uncomfortable meeting had to take place, she wanted to dictate the terms as completely as possible. She lifted her nose to smell the air. The atmosphere immediately calmed her turbulent thoughts. The scent of freshly ground beans and sweet creams tickled her nose, heightening her senses. The toffee-colored walls, fresh floral centerpieces and sparkling chandeliers pleased her senses, lulling her back into security at a time she felt she needed it most.

Right as she began to feel that relief, a very well dressed Draco Malfoy entered. His travelling cloak was black, but lightly flowing around his body. As he stepped forward, he deftly removed it, eyes scanning the room. When they caught hers, she'd meant to wave him over, but her hand seemed attached to her lap. He lowered his gaze as he made his way over, before settling himself in the chair directly across from her. "Strange, isn't it?" He began immediately.

"Strange?" She repeated dumbly, hoping that she would regain control of her though process sooner, rather than later.

"Strange to think that we'd ever sit in the same public location, let alone at the same table, intentionally," He explained, draping his robe over the chair. He was wearing a charcoal grey set of robes. Only now, with the adornment of this shade, did she see that he had a very sharp shade of blue within the silver of his orbs. "So…"

"How is this conversation supposed to go Malfoy?" She asked, rather than trying to decipher for herself.

"Draco," He replied shortly.

"What?"

"My name, as you know very well, is Draco. I believe, under the circumstances, first names are warranted Hermione."

She tried to ignore the stirring within her that occurred when he said her name. It was almost a whisper and his whispers had been uttered to her in the grips of passion. These weren't memories she was currently comfortable recalling. She decided to concede, pleased that she no longer had to force herself to remember to call him Malfoy. "Alright…Draco, what next?"

He was quick to answer, obviously having prepared for this question. "Talking. Getting to know each other, the works."

"And for what purpose?" She pried leaning forward. "I'm telling you now Draco, I don't enjoy games. I don't like being toyed with and I appreciate honesty. If you do not intend to be completely honest with me, you will regret it…severely."

Draco looked quite surprised at her sharp attitude, but regained his composure quickly. "I can assure you quite steadily, I do not intend to 'toy' with you, in any un-literal sense." He smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"And what is your intention then, pray tell?" She asked, getting to the point. His answer would determine how they proceed with whatever this was and if proceeding was even possible.

He hesitated openly, obviously calculating his response with care. "Dating…to start."

Now was Hermione's turn to hesitate. Her eyebrows raised significantly and she knew how confused she must look. She had tried her best not to have expectations during her steadily increasing amount of encounters with Draco, this surprised the hell out of her. Was this a trick? Did he earnestly want to date her? She'd imagined a scene like this hundreds of times, willing away their houses and the damages left by the war, but this was practically a joke. It was a laugh to think Draco Malfoy would show a romantic interest in her, but then again, few would have expected them to have sex too. He looked sincere, his hands resting still on the table. Hermione opened her mouth, praying a response would pour out without any thought, but Monsieur Maurice himself saved her the trouble by approaching their table.

"Madame!" Maurice was a rather large man, his booming voice and wide body immediately alerting the room to his presence. "Is this young man the reason I have not seen you in so many days?" Maurice looked from her to Draco. He was no fool. Everyone in wizarding Europe knew who Draco Malfoy was if not by his reputation, then by the numerous pictures riddling the tabloids. Hermione had stopped reading them post-trial, not willing to subject herself to news on Malfoy's newest "witch of the week", as the papers said.

"Actually, the Minister forced me into vacation," She replied with enthusiasm, eager to steer the conversation in another direction. Just as she was about to compliment him on the slimming set of robes he was wearing, Draco stood, hand out to Maurice.

"Pleasure to meet you. Monsieur Maurice, I presume?" Hermione's plan to distract from the blonde was ruined immediately by the subject in question when he focused all attention the room to himself. He'd raised his voice to match the level of enthusiasm that Maurice had brought to the table.

Immediately, the whispers started. Hermione's eyes swept the room and could see table after table, duck their heads behind menus and books in a horrible form of stealth. While she had anticipated Maurice making a large deal over her brunch with the Malfoy heir, she hadn't expected such a response from him in return. Draco's thin, athletic build was slight compared to Maurice's, the older man standing nearly a foot over him, but the air of confidence Draco had was strong. He was exuding masculinity and his presence was made all the greater. His calm, focused attitude was almost…intimidating. Maurice gave a satisfied smirk, shook Draco's hand warmly and motioned for Draco to take his seat.

"Whatever the two of you like today, you have! No charge!" He boomed cheerfully before whipping out his wand and bustling away to help another customer.

Draco sat, obviously pleased with himself and the reception. "How did you win him over like that? All you did was shake his hand! No offense intended. It's just that Maurice can be quite…protective of me," She answered as a tray of tea floated to their table. Maurice gave a smile and a wave before sending over another tray of pastries and biscuits. Hermione was taken aback by the readiness with which he accepted Draco.

"Men like Maurice and I have an understanding. A handshake is really all it takes," He answered simply taking a bit of a croissant.

Hermione sat back in her chair, one arm crossed over another. Her mind was made up. "Alright, Draco."

"Alright?" He asked as dumbly as Hermione had earlier.

"Alright…I will date you."

Draco smiled into his cup of tea, sipping it carefully before slowly sliding the hand that remained on the table over Hermione's, grasping it very lightly. A flash fired in the corner and Hermione had no doubt that their picture had just been taken. Draco's eyes flitted in the direction of the camera, but ultimately neither made any movement to separate. The feeling of his hand brushing hers so softly was much more appealing that whatever picture she knew would be in the paper tomorrow. She could hear Maurice making a commotion, shuffling someone out the door, but all that mattered right now was that Draco's hand was holding hers and that this, was definitely a date.

**(A/N: Guess what? I'm liking the direction it's heading….I'm in the middle of picking between two entirely different major conflicts [Really have had both of these in mind since the beginning]…_if you don't have a problem with the possibility of a little spoiler_ and would like to _give your opinion on the direction of the story_, write a review and I'll message you back! I'd really love some input on this one…and your reviews fuel me :-D Oh and sorry for any errors, point them out and I'll fix them!)**


	7. Starting Over

**A/N: Ok. So I went through some shit. Lost some shit. That shit happens to include all notes, files and chapters that I had completed on this story. [Along with a lot of other ones!] I've recently received some reviews, reread what I wrote and decided to renew it a little and see where it takes me. I haven't written any real good Dramione in a while, so bear with me while I get my sea-legs back! Thanks to anyone still bothering to read! Getting back on track, so I'll be holding off on the smut for a few chapters...patience ;)**

**Two warnings if you DO decide to read on:**

**1.)My writing style has changed a bit since I wrote the previous chapters. I still have my gooey and smutty moments, but my tone and diction have developed..lemme know what you think!**

**2.) I'm not going to get all of my own continuity down. I may change a few facts from the first six chapters. If it's a huge deal, message me and I'll fix it, but otherwise...go with the flow and enjoy.**

_Drip. Drip._

The sound, like a leaky faucet had haunted him since his first night in this cell. The guards claimed the sound was in his head. He shouted often, but the wizard on duty seemed not to notice. The insolence...didn't they know who he was? ...of course they did...a shudder ran through him. For a moment, Lucius Malfoy had forgotten that he was in Azkaban. He stared about at the opulence surrounding him. Cold, dark cobblestone made up the closet-sized space he inhabited. A mat with some rags lay neatly organized in one corner, his meager belongings lining the wall near his toilet. Even all the money in the world hadn't been enough to give him a little luxury in this shit-hole.

The rattle of a plastic tray dropping at the foot of his cell, snapped him out of his meditations on whatever leaky pipe was driving him slowly mad. Along with the scraps of food he'd try to keep down, they'd given him a copy of the Daily Prophet. Casting aside the food that would inevitably coat a corner of his cell after his afternoon bout of nausea, he grasped the paper, hoping for some news of his son.

He didn't have to look far. Adoring the front page, Draco Malfoy, wearing a smile he hadn't seen on him since he'd been a boy. While he smiled, Draco was hand in hand with a witch. _Malfoy-heir and War-Hero Granger, out for tea?_ The headline boldly stated. Lucius's hand gripped the sensitive paper, a mane of barbaric hair coming into his sight. What was the boy playing at? When Draco had cut off communication with him, through the sting, he'd been proud. Draco had an image to protect and a company to run, there was no use in holding on to criminal family ties, even if paternal. They were not a family that relied on emotion and feeling...only success and power.

This...association, threatened that power. Blood purity was a staple in the Malfoy lineage and arranged marriages had thus far managed to assure this advantage. It seemed Draco was no longer following the status quo. Without bothering to read the article, he gathered his posessions...a piece of ratty parchment and a muggle writing instrument. Lucius needed a word with his precious wife.  
><em>Drip. Drip. Drip. <em>With a snarl, he set to his letter.

* * *

><p><p>

"At first, it didn't matter. It was like being in some sappy movie for a minute. After the second or third picture, Draco drew his wand and the photographer tripped over himself on the way out the door."

Ginny smiled and poured a cuppa for the pair of them while they sat at the table and browsed baby things. "It's a good thing the Malfoy name comes with a big bank account, if only to keep him out of a cell for the night. But, I still don't see what the big deal is. It's a picture of a couple of friends at tea."

The brunette shot her a look. "Really, Gin? Friends, who used to be sworn enemies mind you, don't hold hands while at a casual morning brunch. This...thing...is something that we've just begun to explore ourselves. I'm not ready to invite all of the local wizarding community into our bed as well."

A fiery-red eyebrow shot up, "Our bed?"

"It's a figure of speech Ginevra!" Hermione shouted with no real menace. She sighed and sipped her tea while her friend smirked at her. "I want to make sure that if we do, or don't, get involved...it's _our _decision and ours alone." She hesitated a moment, staring at the cup resting in her palm. "Draco made me feel things that I didn't know were possible; and I don't just mean the sex. That's not it."

Mrs. Potter waited patiently to see if her friend was going to continue, but Hermione seemed to have reached limit for self-revelation at the moment. She cleared her throat. "Then, what's the next step? A date?"

At this, Hermione's face flushed a significantly darker shade and she took another telling sip of her tea. "We tried." She placed her index finger on the front page picture. "_That_ was supposed to be our first date. At first, we were going to continue somewhere else, but erm – "

"But?" Ginny looked livid. "You didn't let that ruin your entire time, did it? I mean this is a big deal!"

"We ended up at my flat," she said avoiding eye contact.

Ginny gasped in recognition. "Oh...ooooh!" She smiled. "Well, then I was right. Must have been damn good!"

"Oh, Ginny, you have _no_ idea!" she gushed, a hand to her chest. "He's like a crisp. Can't have just a taste, you want the whole bag."

Ginny took a baby pamphlet and fanned herself, crossing to the window to get a breeze moving through the house. "If we keep talking like this, I'm gonna have to call this meeting short for a quick interlude with Harry. Okay, again, maybe I'm a little slow, but why is that a bad thing? Sounds like a successful first date to me!"

"The only thing our pseudo-relationship stands on right now is really, really fantastic shagging. It's hard to go out in public with viewing eyes, but as soon as we have any semblance of privacy...we can't be trusted," she explained. "And I for one, don't want a relationship based solely on mutual physical attraction."

"Tonight then," Ginny said standing and grabbing some parchment from the kitchen. "Wednesday nights, Draco comes over for dinner, but tonight I can invite you!"

It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you guys were so close."

"Harry and him really hit it off after all the chaos of the war died down. I usually just make them something and leave them to it, but I think Draco appreciates a home-cooked meal," Ginny says this with a shrug, but Hermione is in awe.

When her and Draco had slept together during school, there had been no chance of anything but their one night. The night he'd been her prince. She was light, he was dark. She had her friends and he had his family. Now, in her absence, he was more apart of her friends' lives than she was. Without saying anything, Hermione crossed the room to her dearest friend and embraced her warmly. As usual, Ginny needed no words to understand the intent of Hermione's nonverbal message. Feeling more like herself than in years, Hermione sat down to help Ginny plan their dinner.


End file.
